Nightmares
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal worries about Peter driving home half-awake, inviting his partner to sleep over. His worries cause him to have nightmares. - Whumpage, death and other horrific things you might see in a vivid nightmare. Season 1 Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**Nightmares  
============**

It was nearly midnight when Peter and Neal showed up at June's. Peter was drooping slightly over the steering wheel while Neal had just barely woken up from a short nap as he leaned on the door, fedora pushed over his face. He had woken up when the car stopped and saw the agent barely able to keep his eyes open. He nudged Peter who turned with a start.

"I'm awake... what's up?" Peter yawned, his voice quieter than usual. He was definitely just as tired as Neal so the young man made a motion toward's June's house.

"Come in for a cup of coffee, Peter." He could see his friend considering the offer as he yawned again and finally nodded.

"I could use a little _pick me up_ before I head home. El's probably worried. I need to phone her." Peter yawned again, Neal slipping out of the car and waiting until Peter exited and walked around to meet him. They strode up to the ornately metal scrolled door of June's mansion and entered as quietly as possible. Neal locked the door behind them as Peter strode ahead with a little sleepy swagger that made the young man smile. He nudged his friend who almost smacked into a small shelf, Peter turning and nodding with a yawn.

"Sorry, guess this stakeout just took out a bit more of me than I thought. How about you? You slept the whole way home." Peter's voice was quiet as they entered the huge foyer and started towards the stairs that led up to Neal's apartment on the top floor. Neal stretched his lanky limbs, covering his mouth as a yawn escaped his lips.

"I was sleeping but mostly I was making sure you stayed awake. You didn't feel me kick you a few times? You were passing out at the wheel, Peter." The young man didn't smirk or laugh, he just said it matter of factly like a friend or brother. Peter didn't take it one way or the other, too tired to think about much.

"Sorry, El does the same thing when we go on long trips. I just... well thanks for kicking me." Peter smiled as they walked up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Once they reached Neal's room, Peter plopped down on the sofa and leaned back, head lolling on the sofa back and slightly over. His eyes were closed, Neal watching him as he moved over to the kitchenette with another yawn and stretch, pulling out a small scoop of coffee and starting the coffee maker. It made a soft wet popping sound like a popcorn maker blowing bubbles. Neal grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some water, taking it back to the sofa and plopping down near his friend. Peter didn't move. Neal poked him in the arm and the agent slumped towards the armrest. Neal smiled, putting his glass on the coffee table and standing up again.

Peter was still slumped on the armrest when Neal returned with an extra sheet, blanket and pillow. He reached over and gently nudged his friend till Peter snorted slightly and woke up. The agent rubbed at his eyes and looked up at Neal blearily.

"Sorry, I guess I'm a little more tired than I thought. What's this?" He noticed the stack of bedsheets and pillow on the sofa and looked at the young man curiously. Neal just smiled.

"Call El and tell her you're going to sleep here tonight. Friend's don't let friend's drive asleep." He smirked at the agent who took a moment before he was awake enough to figure out what was said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah... where's my cell?" He shuffled through his pockets before finding his cell, yawning as he dialed a number.

"El? Sorry, I didn't mean to... oh you were awake? I'm with Neal. The stakeout went well. I think I'm going to sleep here tonight. I'll see you in the morning. Love you too... Night." Peter had already started to nod off again as the call ended. Neal nudged the agent again who grunted.

"Sit over here so I can fix this for you." Neal yawned a bit himself as Peter stood and walked over to a nearby armchair. Peter didn't sit down but just leaned on it, chin slipping to his chest off and on as he tried to stay awake. He only woke up when Neal shook him gently.

"Thanks, Neal." Peter started removing his jacket, draping it over the arm chair along with his dress shirt as he slipped off his shoes and made his way towards the sofa. Neal pointed at a pair of sweats on the table.

"Just in case you want something else to wear." Neal walked over to the bathroom and closed the door. He slipped out of his own clothes, pulled on a pair of comfy sleep pants, and splashed a bit of water over his face. He looked in the mirror at himself as if thinking about something that bothered him. He pulled on a clean white tee and turned out the light as he exited. Peter had already curled up on the sofa and was passed out, his slacks neatly folded where the sweats had been. He had changed. Neal grinned, tucking the blanket over his friend as he passed by to his own bed.

Neal curled up under his own warm duvet, staring across the dimly lit room at his friend. He was glad Peter had taken his offer to stay. He worried when Peter drove home half-asleep thinking of all the bad things that could happen. In fact, Neal often worried about his friends though he hid it well enough. Nobody would know how he felt about them beyond what he let them see. He had been alone for so long that now that he had a "_family_" he wanted to keep them safe. He wanted nothing to happen to them if he could help it.

It was with this thought Neal fell asleep, his mind feverishly working on a script based on this current subject...

**(what if...)**

Peter was walking with Neal towards the Taurus after a long evening of paperwork. Both men were tired, chatting quietly about this and that when several figures dressed in black with masks grabbed them. Neal struggled against his captors but was cuffed behind the ears with something blunt, slumping but not unconscious. Peter was cursing at the men as they held him securely, pushing him to a kneeling position.

"Keller sends his greetings to you both." The man's voice was low and menacing, Neal glancing up through blurry eyes at the scene. He pulled against the arms that held him without success. He heard the cocking of a pistol, watching as it was pushed against Peter's temple. He couldn't let his friend die. El needed Peter. He didn't want to be the one to tell her it was his fault her husband died. Neal fought harder to free himself but he was cuffed across the chin by a stone fist, the young man seeing stars as he reeled from the blow.

"Make sure _he_ can watch." The man's voice was cold, emotionless. Neal smelled something pungent like ammonia and he started to wake up some. His head was pulled back by the hair, eyes forced open as he was pushed to his knees. He could just make out Peter's face, wide-eyed and slightly fearful though he hid it with a look of rebelliousness at the masked men. The man holding the gun slowly pulled the trigger, Peter looking at Neal as he mouthed: _Tell El I love her_.

Neal kicked at his captors till he felt himself pull free, moving forward in slow motion reaching to push his friend out of harm's way. He heard the report of the gun and saw Peter's eyes close as if he were going to sleep, his face calm as his body slumped to the side. Neal heard himself scream...

**()()()**

Neal squirmed beneath the covers, face flushed, lips moving as he spoke quietly...

"No... Peter... no..." Neal's voice sounded worried, his brow furrowing, breath coming fast. He thrashed slightly in his sleep, sweat forming on his forehead. Neal continued for a moment to look upset and scared till his face seemed to calm and he fell still once more. His eyes opened ever so slightly, turned towards a sleeping figure before closing again. Neal's eyes flitted beneath closed lids as he began to dream once again.

**(What if...)**

Elizabeth Burke shouted a greeting and waved from across the street. Neal turned at the sound of her voice and waved back, crossing the road as she headed towards him. She was nearly half-way when a man dashed from behind a parked car and grabbed her. Neal ran to her aid as the man pulled a gun and waved it at Neal.

"Don't be a hero... I just want her purse... and your wallet." The man looked bad, his skin pale and yellowish, eyes blood-shot. Neal held up his hands, slowly reaching for his wallet, the one he kept in case he had to practice pick-pocketing. It was empty but for a few bucks but the guy was probably too strung out to care. Neal handed it over slowly, the man grabbing it, gun in hand. Elizabeth was whimpering slightly, pushing her purse towards the man as he grabbed at it, his arm still holding her. Neal gave her a "_Just keep calm_" glance and she nodded back, eyes watching the man.

"You have our possessions, let her go." Neal said it calmly, rationally but the man gazed up at him as if he'd been cursed at. Neal gulped, the gun pointed behind El's ear. He held up his hands.

"Please, I have another twenty if you want that. Just... let her go." Neal was pleading now, fear washing over him in a nauseating wave. He felt helpless, El's eyes wide with terror. The man started to shout.

"Stop... telling me... what... to do! Stop it!" The man sounded crazed, maybe schizophrenic. Neal saw the man pulling the trigger on the gun and leaped forward to pull El away. She ducked her head, Neal yanking her loose as the man fell backwards. The gun went off but El was ok, tumbling down with Neal onto the asphalt. The man ran away, having taken Neal's fake wallet but dropping El's purse in the street.

"Neal? Oh God... Thank you..." She was hugging him tightly, her eyes red and puffy. Neal held her, looking across her shoulder and noticing her purse in the road. _Where were the cops when you needed them?_ He thought. Neal stood up, helping El stand, her eyes also seeing her purse. He walked over to pick it up for her when he heard the sound of squealing wheels approaching. Neal was mid-crouch over the purse, frozen like a deer in headlights as the vehicle approached. Suddenly he felt himself pushed out of the way and an audible _thud_ as the car hit something, squealing to a stop. Neal turned around, his hands slightly scratched up from falling to the rough asphalt, his eyes widening in horror.

"I didn't see you... either of you... I'm... Oh God... I'm so sorry!" The woman looked panicked, her tan face paling as she stared at the scene. Neal blinked several times not wanting to believe what his eyes showed him. He scooted over as quickly as he could and gently lifted El's limp form into his arms, his face wet with tears. She was hurt badly but smiled up at him, eyes partially open.

"Neal? I don't... I feel sleepy. Are you..." He nodded, trying to keep her from leaving him... from leaving Peter. He pulled out his cell, talking to her as he dialed 911.

"I'm ok. Just stay awake, El. I'm calling for help." He was on the phone with the emergency services, his voice cracking with tears as he told them where and what. He hung up after a moment and just lay the phone beside him on the street, holding El closely. She was pale, her body turning cold. _What was he going to tell Peter?_ How... He just felt more tears as he reached for his phone, dialing the number he dreaded. He heard the number ring till finally someone picked up.

"_Burke. Neal?_" Peter sounded chipper which made it harder for Neal to speak, his voice still hard to find.

"Pe... ter? El..." He tried to finish but his throat tightened up. He heard a loud intake of breath on the other end.

"Neal, where are you? What about El?" He sounded worried. Neal tried to speak again.

"Accident... she's... hurt badly. I called 911." Neal felt himself unable to speak anymore but Peter seemed to understand, the sound of movement on the other end as he could hear his partner running and the sound of a car starting.

"_Where are you? Neal? Speak to me. Where?!_" Peter was frantic now, the sound of the car moving in the background. Neal looked around and saw a street sign finally.

"Corner... where the Deli is near June's. Hurry..." Neal looked down as El started to slump in his arms and nudged her.

"El... Stay awake. Please... Peter is coming." He held the phone to her ear and she seemed to be listening.

"Peter? Neal... got my purse back." She was smiling as she spoke, her hand on Neal's arm. He was shaking slightly from emotion, holding the phone to her ear. He could just hear Peter answer back.

"I_'m glad he was there with you, honey. El... talk to Neal till I get there. Ok? I'm just around the corner and we'll go home._" Peter's voice was raspy with emotion. El nodded sleepily, her eyes fluttering a bit as if they might close.

"I'll try. I'm sleepy. I want to close my eyes." El's grasp on Neal's arm started to slide, her fingers loosening. Neal put the phone down and nudged at her.

"Stay with me, El. Please. Peter's almost here." He turned and saw a familiar vehicle show up just as the ambulance arrived. El's head peered up at Neal's, her hand brushing his cheek gently.

"Tell Peter I'm sorry I couldn't wait." She smiled up at him in that sweet manner of hers and then she was gone. Neal just knelt there, his body trembling as he held her and tried not to believe his eyes.

"El? El? El!?" He started to cry, a moan of anguish leaving his lips. He bent over her and kissed her on the forehead, brushing at her hair as someone touched him on the shoulder. It was Peter.

"Neal, how... Oh God... Elizabeth?" Peter saw his wife laying limp in Neal's arms. The young man had tears streaming down his face, looking up at his friend in shock. He was only vaguely aware of the paramedics hurrying over. Peter knelt beside them, taking his wife's body into his arms.

"She..." He couldn't tell Peter that she said _good-bye_... Neal felt his throat grow tighter, a pain in his chest making it hard to breath. He wiped at his eyes, watching his partner nudge his wife gently.

"El, I'm here... El... wake up. Neal she's not waking up... El?" Peter was hunched over his wife, rocking back and forth, his face pale. Neal tried to put an arm around him but Peter shook it off in his devastation. The paramedics stood there.

"Sir, we have to check her out. Sir..." The paramedics looked at Neal who was still in shock himself, unsure of what to do. He put an arm around Peter again who didn't shrug it off this time.

"Peter... let them look at her." His voice sounded raspy, faint but Peter finally turned and looked at him.

"Why? What happened, Neal? Why is she..." Peter sounded angry almost, blame in his brown eyes as he looked at Neal. The paramedics finally moved in and Peter let them take El onto the stretcher.

"I'm not getting a pulse! No heartbeat or respiration!" One EMT brought out a small box and they opened up El's shirt and started to defib. Her body shuddered but she remained still. Neal was hugging Peter now, his partner watching with blank emotionless eyes.

"Nothing... again!" El's body shuddered as the paramedics shocked it once again. Peter was shaking as he watched the paramedics try to bring her back. Neal tried to speak but his voice stuttered.

"Peter... I tried... I..." Neal moved back as Peter turned with an angry expression, eyes flashing.

"Why Neal? What happened?" Peter looked like a man close to the edge. His eyes were tinged in sadness but flashed angrily. Neal felt his face flush, more tears falling. He had tried...he had really tried to help.

"Someone tried to mug her so I helped and he ran away." Neal felt himself about to hyperventilate, his breath coming in panting breaths.

"Her purse fell in the road when he... ran. I... went to get it but... car... coming fast... She pushed me... out of the way." He held up his hands in a helpless manner, the skin bruised and abraised from where he'd fallen when Elizabeth had pushed him out of the way. Peter saw the wounds and looked back at his wife.

"She pushed you out of the way? El..." Peter leaned against the younger man and started to cry. Neal cried with him, holding his friend gently.

"I had saved her... and then..." Neal was remembering the gunman. He had saved her only to lose her. She had been his biggest cheerleader, always on his side... understanding. Why did she have to save him... and leave Peter? He should have died, not her. Neal felt sick with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Peter... forgive me." Neal looked into his friend's eyes pleading for forgiveness. Peter shook his head.

"It's not your fault, Neal." Peter turned as they pulled a sheet over his wife and shuddered, reaching out towards her.

"El..."

**()()()**

Neal's face was flushed as he slept, tears rolling down his cheeks. He moved his head back and forth, a frown evident.

"I'm sorry, Peter... forgive me." His voice was soft, a deep sadness evident in his tone. A hand touched his forehead, fingers brushing hair from his face. Peter stood there, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Neal, you're dreaming. Wake up." Peter shook the young man gently but he didn't wake up immediately, Neal's hand grasping his when he finally opened his eyes.

"Peter?" Neal sat up, wiping his eyes in confusion as he looked around. He was awake.

"You were having a nightmare. Woke me up so I came to check on you. You were asking me to _forgive you_." Peter arched a brow at the younger man waiting for an answer. Neal remembered the dream too vividly to want to repeat it so he did the next best thing.

"I was dreaming about the music box. Remembering how you didn't want me to take it." He sniffed slightly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He could tell Peter didn't buy it but nodded, patting the young man on the shoulder.

"It's ok. We've gone through this." He squeezed the young man's hand gently, standing up and looking at the clock. It was just after 3 am.

"I am not going to be awake for work today." Peter said in a grudging manner as he padded over to the bathroom and closed the door. Neal looked after his friend, a concerned look on his face.

He was remembering the nightmares and knowing he didn't want to share those fears with his friend. It was bad enough he worried about the Burkes but to dream of all the horrible possibilities made him want to erase every last image that was now burnt into his mind. He wiped at his eyes, pushing the covers aside and going over to the kitchenette. He poured himself a glass of water and took a long sip. He wished it was wine but he had to sleep at some point.

Peter exited the bathroom a few minutes later, looking over at Neal curiously. The young man gulped slightly, choking on his water. Peter walked over and hit him gently on the back.

"Hey, take a breath buddy." Peter rubbed him on the back till Neal caught his breath.

"Sorry." Neal felt a flush as he thought about his last nightmare. He still felt guilt, dream or not. Peter seemed to sense something was wrong, motioning for Neal to sit on the sofa with him.

"You weren't dreaming about the music box... were you?" Peter's brown eyes pinned the young man in place, Neal turning away but shaking his head.

"I don't want to talk about it, Peter. Please don't make me..." Neal crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the sofa. He felt a hand on his shoulder but he didn't turn. Neal sniffed a bit trying not to remember the dreams but the hand remained, squeezing at his shoulder gently.

"Neal... something's bugging you. Spit it out." Peter didn't sound mad or chiding for once, Neal turning slowly and looking at his friend in the dimly lit room. He felt something wet rolling down his cheek and wiped at it, Peter's eyes looking at him with concern.

"Were you dreaming about Kate? I'm sorry... it's none of my business..." His face showed interest, his manner friendly but not pushy. Peter had let the young man have his time to mourn, giving him space. Neal appreciated that but he didn't want to tell his friend his dreams had concerned both he and El being killed because of his carelessness. He hesitated enough that Peter nodded.

"It's not a problem. We can talk about it in the morning... well, _later_ in the morning." Peter mussed the young man's hair, smiling. Neal smiled back but the dreams were still bothering him. He would have to tell someone about them. Since Kate had died, his world had changed drastically. Everything seemed so much more fragile and he felt like a man standing in the midst of a frozen lake unsure where the ice would collapsed beneath his feet. He felt Peter looking at him and stood.

"Sorry, maybe in the morning. I just don't think I'm ready to talk about _them_ yet." Neal's voice sounded hollow, devoid of emotion. He watched Peter nod.

"Good-night, Neal. Pleasant dreams." Peter's voice sounded sleepy. Neal nodded with a half-smile as he walked towards his bed. He was about to climb in when he heard snoring behind him. Peter had already fallen asleep. At least one of them was going to sleep tonight. Neal quietly dug around till he found his cell phone and walked back out through the main room and out onto the terrace. He closed the French doors behind him and crossed the tiled patio to the wrought iron table and sat down. The cool air played with his hair and sent shivers to his skin as it passed through his thin pajamas. He didn't mind, he was probably not going to sleep anytime soon.

Neal dialed a number on his cell and a sleepy voice finally answered.

"Do you know what time it is?" The voice was not happy but then when did Mozzie ever sound cheerful. Neal smiled slightly but apologized.

"I'm sorry, Mozz... I needed to talk. I'll make it up to you. Promise."

**(to be continued...)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Peter woke up with a slight sense of confusion till he remember he was on the sofa in Neal's apartment. He rolled over to his side and peered over at his friend, sitting up when he saw the young man was not in bed. Peter turned towards the bathroom door but there was no light underneath it and the main door was still shut. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, standing up and looking around the room. Dim light wafted in through the terrace doors, Peter walking over to open them up. He paused when he saw a figure slumped in one of the chairs at the wrought iron table outside. It was Neal.

Peter walked over and nudged the young man who held his cell phone to his ear although he was obviously asleep. The young man didn't respond, Peter taking the cell phone which seemed to still be connected. He could just hear breathing on the other side.

"Hello?" Peter spoke softly and heard a voice answer back.

"_Hi Suit. I think Neal fell asleep on me... considering he woke me up to __**chat**__. Tell him he owes me breakfast._" Mozzie's voice was it's usual snark, Peter smiling.

"Not a problem." Peter heard the phone go _click_ and hung it up. It looked like Neal had left the phone on a while, Peter placing it on the table as he made to lift the young man up and walk him over to his bed. Neal's skin felt cold, his face pale from having been out in the night air. He coughed a bit as Peter lifted him up and half-carried him back inside.

"Peter? I guess I fell... asleep... outside." Neal's voice was slightly hoarse, probably from the cold air. He coughed again which was beginning to sound like the start of a bad cold. Peter sighed, helping his friend into his bed and covering him up. Neal shivered, curling up onto his side beneath the covers. Peter felt the young man's forehead but he didn't feel warm so he didn't have a fever... yet.

"I'm going to tell Hughes you're not coming in today. Rest. I'll be back around lunch time to check up on you, ok?" He saw Neal nod back at him as the young man started to fall asleep again. Peter checked the young man's forehead one last time before going back out on the terrace. He picked up Neal's phone and walked back inside, closing the doors and placing it on the nightstand. Peter looked at his friend sleeping, his face like a little boy's, his body shuddering slightly as he coughed in his sleep.

**()()()**

Peter closed the door behind him, moving towards the stairs when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He turned to see June there, her finger to her lips as they tiptoed down the stairs, chatting quietly.

"You boys came in late last night." She patted him on the arm, Peter smiling with a slight blush.

"We were hoping we didn't wake you up. I apologize." Peter followed June into the kitchen where she offered him a cup of ambrosia: her _Italian_ roast. He smiled gratefully.

"I was already awake reading a book one of my children sent me. I think you met my granddaughter but not my son. I'll have to introduce you some time. You can bring Elizabeth and we'll make it an event." She smiled, offering him a refill in a paper cup as he looked at his watch. Peter nodded with a smile.

"Thanks, June. Can you... well Neal isn't feeling very well. I think he's coming down with a cold so I let him sleep. Can you look in on him?" He gave her an apologetic look but she just smiled and squeezed his arm in a half-hug.

"Not a problem. I'm always checking up on him. He's not as mopey as he was before but he's still been lax enough about sleeping and eating I've had to nudge him a bit. I'll look in on him. I guess you'll go home before work? Say Hi to El for me." Her manner was almost matronly towards Neal, a concerned look on her face turning to a smile when she mentioned his wife.

"Thanks and I will."

**()()()**

Peter made it home in less time than he thought, calling Hughes along the way to let him know he would be running a few minutes late. He parked the Taurus along the curb in front of the two story home he shared with his lovely wife Elizabeth. He saw a movement near the curtains and the door opened, El waving at him as he trotted up the stairs towards her. He wrapped his arms around her as they entered their home and closed the door, reaching down to kiss her. El smiled up at him.

"Someone missed me. How is Neal?" Her voice was cheerful for so early in the morning. He smiled back, hugging her again and walking upstairs.

"He's good. Let me jump in the shower and change and I'll tell you the rest after?" Peter trotted up the stairs, El glancing up.

"I'll fix you something for breakfast?" Her voice called up, Peter answering.

"Sounds good."

**()()()**

Peter sat at the dining table with his wife, clean and dressed in fresh clothes. He felt good but his thoughts continued to worry about his partner as he sipped at his coffee. El seemed to know something was bugging him and tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"Hmm...? Sorry, just thinking about Neal." Peter's voice sounded worried, El scooting over with her chair to hug him.

"What's wrong with Neal? You had a good night on the stakeout, right?" She leaned on his shoulder, her hand wrapped around him. Peter gently leaned his head on hers, a slight frown on his face.

"He's worrying about something but won't tell me what. He was having nightmares about something and asking me for '_forgiveness_.' He didn't seem keen to talk about it but I don't buy that it was about the music box. I suspect he may have been thinking about Kate but he wouldn't admit it." Peter's tone was frustrated, the FBI agent in him speaking. El poked him and he ouched.

"What was that for?" He recognized the look on her face and blushed slightly.

"Haven't I told you before about letting the agent side of you take over. He needs a friend, Peter. He's not going to talk to Agent Burke of the FBI, got it?" She slapped his face gently, squeezing it between her hands and kissing him. Her eyes looked up at the clock.

"I think it's time for you to go. Don't need Agent Burke getting yelled at by his boss." She kissed him again as he rose and smiled.

"Thanks, El. I'm going to go check up on him at lunchtime. Neal looked like he was coming down with a cold. June's keeping an eye on him. Maybe you could uhm... go by and visit?" Peter walked with her to the door, pulling on his jacket and grabbing his coat from the rack. She nodded as she straightened his collar and tie.

"Sending me out to spy. Peter... I'll see what I can do. I'm sure he's just needing someone to talk to." She arched an eyebrow at him as he kissed her once more and left.

**()()()**

Neal was curled up in a semi-fetal position beneath this blankets, shivering. His face looked slightly pale, cheeks flushed a slight pink. His cough was a bit more defined now, a wet sound to it as he sniffled slightly. He was sleeping but just barely, a chill making him curl up tighter under his blankets till his face was hidden beneath the duvet. He thought he heard the door to his room open and light footsteps on the floor, a shadow falling over him.

"Neal? Neal, it's June. How are you feeling?" Her voice was soft and motherly making the young man poke his head out slowly from under the covers, blue eyes looking blearily up at her. She smiled down at him, putting a gentle and warm hand on his forehead. She clucked her tongue, opening up a drawer in the nightstand and pulling out a small digital thermometer. She slipped a plastic cover over it, sitting on the edge of the bed as she helped Neal sit up.

"Say ah..." Neal opened his mouth but it was obvious it hurt to do so, the thermometer slipping under his tongue as he closed his mouth. June waited till she heard a beep, gently pull the thermometer out. It read 101. Neal had a fever. She brushed his hair gently, throwing the plastic slip in the trash and replacing the thermometer to the drawer.

"Let me get you some aspirin, Neal and some hot tea with honey and lemon. Think you can drink that?" She kept brushing his hair, his head nodding slightly as he looked up at her. He swallowed hard, throat feeling a bit like sandpaper.

"Thanks... June." His voice sounded hoarse, but he smiled and reached up to hug her. She grinned hugging him back.

"Rest and I'll be back with the aspirin and then tea." She patted him gently on the forehead before leaving the room. Neal curled up on his side again, eyes shut. He heard June return a few minutes later, nudging the young man awake as she helped him take some aspirin with water. He smiled gratefully up at her.

"Now, rest and I'm going to bring you up some tea and soup." She paused and turned at the sound of a bell. Neal peered at her curiously.

"I wonder who that could be..." June kissed him on the cheek and left him alone. He listened to her soft footsteps as they disappeared down the hall and staircase. Neal sighed, feeling lonely. He pulled the covers up over him and scrunched down underneath, closing his eyes. He began to dream.

**(What if...)**

Neal heard the alarm go off, reaching out from under the covers to turn it off. The radio kicked on a few minutes later as a back up alarm.

"_Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again...  
It's been a long... long... time.  
Haven't felt like this my dear, since can't remember when,  
It's been a long... long... time._

_You'll never know how many dreams I dream about you,  
Or just how empty they all seem without you,  
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again...  
It's been a long... long... time_."

Neal perked up, looking out from under the covers and smiling. That was the song June told him Byron and her had danced to at their wedding. He gave a little stretch and yawn as he pushed the covers aside and stood up. The floor boards felt cold today, Neal shivering slightly as he trotted across the floor to the bathroom and turned on the hot water to get the shower warmed up a bit. He pulled out a nice navy blue suit, June so graciously lent him, with a light aqua shirt beneath and some black Italian loafers. He spread them out neatly on the bed and then ran back into the bathroom to get ready for work.

Neal felt warmer now though a slight chill continued to bother him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end but he took it as a sign he needed to turn up the radiator. The windows were slightly frosted meaning a bit of Winter was still outside. He dressed quickly and made his way downstairs after a cursory look in the mirror and a roguish flip of his favorite fedora.

First thing Neal noticed as he made his way downstairs was that the house was quiet. Too quiet. Usually the housekeeper was already here but she was absent. The other strange thing was the absence of June. It was still rather early but she was normally upstairs around this time waiting for Neal to pop out and say hi. He reached the bottom banister and turned to find his landlady resting comfortably on a small sofa at the foot of the stairs. Neal smiled, walking over quietly and crouching down beside her.

"June... it's Neal. Wake up." He smiled, brushing a bit of curly hair from her face but she didn't move. She looked peaceful, face calm and worry free. He felt the hair on the back of his neck raise again but he wasn't sure why. He nudged her gently, whispering.

"June, I'm going to work soon. I just wanted to say..." He paused, his hand brushing her cheek and feeling how cool it was beneath his fingertips. He touched her neck gently and there was no pulse. He placed his head on her chest and heard no beat. Neal stood up and took a step back, his face paling. He knelt beside her and hugged her.

"June? Oh no..." His voice choked as he lay his head on her shoulder and cried. He hadn't knelt there for very long when he heard a knock on the door. Neal looked up, eyes red and puffy, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve. Neal pulled out his phone and was startled when it rang suddenly. He picked it up and saw Peter was paging him.

_**"I'm at the door. Where are you?"**_

Neal paused, hanging up and dialing 911 as he made his way to the door, wiping at his eyes but still crying. He could just make out Peter's figure outside the door, looking at his cell when he turned at the sound of Neal opening the door. The agent noticed the young man's expression, his face sobering from his usual grin.

"Neal, what's wrong?" He stepped inside and the young man just held up a hand, speaking into his cell.

"Yes, I found her on the sofa about 10 minutes ago. Yes... Thank you." He hung up the cell and suddenly collapsed against his friend, Peter catching the young man, sitting him against the wall. He saw Neal's blue eyes looking up at him with more sadness than he could ever imagine. The young man looked despondent.

"Neal, what's wrong? Tell me!" Peter knelt beside his friend and shook him gently till Neal pointed over at the stairs and foyer. Peter stood, patting the young man on the shoulder before walking towards the large room. He was looking around for the source of his friend's anguish when he saw her. June was laying on the sofa, face peaceful looking, eyes closed. Peter walked over quietly and gently nudged her. She didn't move so he grasped her hand and felt the coolness of her skin and gasped.

"Oh June... I'm so sorry..." Peter found one of her shawls hanging nearby on a small coat rack and gently placed it over her, crossing himself. He wiped at his eyes, turning towards Neal who had finally stood up again and was walking shakily back towards him. He stopped a few feet away, seeing the shawl over her face. He wiped at his eyes and smiled ever so slightly.

"That was always her favorite." He collapsed to his knees again, leaning on the banister and crying. Peter turned and crouched beside his friend, hugging him. He stood up when he heard the ambulance sirens.

"Neal, stay here. I'll be right back, ok?" He patted the young man on the head gently, feeling Neal slip down to the floor and sit, head leaning on the banister.

**()()()**

Neal slept the rest of the day in the Burke's guest room after finding June. Peter had taken him home with him after helping the young man pack a bag and toiletries. Neal had been in a daze, traveling with June's body to the hospital morgue. Neal had insisted she shouldn't be alone, Peter helping to contact her next of kin when Neal had been aware enough to provide the info. Her son and daughter had thanked Peter for calling them and told him to let Neal know they appreciated everything he had done for their mother. Peter turned after hanging up his cell and saw El watching him, her eyes moving now and again to the stairs. She wanted to go up and talk to Neal but far as they knew he was still sleeping. She sighed, sipping at her cup of tea but sniffling ever so slightly.

"Poor Neal. It can't have been easy for him to find her like that. You said she looked like she was sleeping?" El's face paled, her lips pursed into a partial frown. She wiped at her eyes as Peter nodded, his own expression sobering.

"Yes. He looked devastated. Neal looked like he had lost his mother. She took such good care of him." His voice choked as he spoke of her not wanting to use the past tense. El moved over and hugged him.

"It's ok honey. I guess it was just her time... although I hope I'm as spry as her when I'm that age. She had such fire and life in her. I can't believe... she's really gone." El's voice cracked slightly, her face buried in Peter's shoulder as she started to cry.

**()()()**

June's family showed up the very next day after the news of her death. Her son Jeremy was the very image of Byron from the few pictures they had seen of her husband around June's home. He was a tall young man, maybe 6'3 with curly brown hair, bright green eyes and an infectious smile like his mother's. He shook hands and hugged Peter, El and especially Neal. They had met briefly once when Neal had escorted his mother to a function. His sister, Kaeyla was the spitting image of their mother. She was 5'7, blue-eyed and svelte, with long dark brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. Both children were happy to meet Peter and El and Kaeyla thanked Neal for all he did for their mother and family. Her daughter had been the one bumped from the transplant list.

That evening they had a small memorial service for June. It was a non-traditional event like none the Burkes or Neal had been to. June's wishes had been that nobody be sad when she passed so her favorite music was played (mostly Rat Pack style and soft jazz) and there was a small buffet with drinks. It felt more like a dinner party than a memorial with the idea that June would show up in all her graciousness. It was only a few close friends and family that showed with her children talking to Neal and the Burkes about her life. Peter noticed Neal felt almost at ease despite having slept most of the day before. Maybe he would be ok, but Peter would be there for him no matter what. Even Mozzie showed up and both Kaeyla and Jeremy hugged the little man knowing him from their mother's stories. Peter thought Mozzie seemed to be the calming factor, sticking to Neal for support.

**()()()**

The funeral was two days later. Neal had been staying with the Burke's in their guest room but visiting June's to help Jeremy and Kaeyla with preparations. The young man showed a lot of responsibility and resolve in making sure everything was perfect. It was strange then that the day of the actual event, Neal was no where to be seen. Even Mozzie had no idea where the con was hiding which worried both El and Peter. They were both invited to sit with the family, Jeremy and Kaeyla asking about Neal. Peter could only shrug helplessly in reply.

The ceremony went as scheduled, several good friends, acquaintances and family giving short anecdotal speeches about how they knew June and the vibrant life she led. Peter kept looking around for Neal when the young man finally showed up in the back of the church, sitting down. He made to go get him but El stopped him.

The minister asked if anyone else had any final words and footsteps walked quickly forward. Neal.

"Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate June's life. She... she helped give a lost young man, myself, a new start. June never asked for much and was always willing to help others. She was one of my best friends and greatest benefactors." He paused, his eyes shiny with tears.

"She wouldn't want us to say '_Good-bye_' at this time but '_adieu_.' Till next we meet." He pulled something from his pocket and placed it beside the picture of her and Byron before he walked back towards the back of the church. The minister and everyone clapped, Peter rising to follow his partner. He caught up to Neal as the young man sat on a bench outside the church.

"Neal?" He saw the young man turn, standing and looking at Peter with a blush, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Peter. Is El here?" He sounded or tried to sound casual but was shifting weight from foot to foot nervously. His blue eyes looked anywhere but at Peter.

"Yes. Everyone was wondering where you were. Your speech... June would have liked it. You did good." Peter smiled, reaching to squeeze the young man's shoulder gently. Neal looked at his friend then away. His body language was stiff as if he were angry or defensive. Neal was upset, hiding his emotions.

"Sorry. I had to get away for a few. Think about things." His voice was soft, cracking slightly with emotion. Peter nodded.

"I understand. I felt the same way at my grandfather's funeral. He had practically raised me. I miss her too, Neal." Peter pulled the young man into a hug and pulled him gently towards the church.

"Say your words to her... I know you put them in that origami flower, but you need to speak with her." He watched Neal nod reluctantly as he hugged his friend back and they walked in together.

When they reentered the church, there was a line of people walking past the open casket. Neal pulled back against Peter's arm, looking like he might run. His face had paled and he looked scared. Neal turned, his back to the scene when someone hugged him.

"Neal, it's ok. Take your time. We're here for you." El's voice made him turn around, leaning against her as she hugged him gently. He shuddered slightly as if he were crying. He finally looked up and wiped his eyes.

"I'll go with you. So will Peter. Ok?" She took his arm in hers, Peter on his other side for support. Neal gulped but smiled finally.

Jeremy and Kaeyla were at the front of the line shaking hands and hugging those who gave their condolences. It was almost Neal's turn. Peter went first, hugging both of June's kids before passing the casket and saying something quiet to Neal's benefactor.

"Thank you for all you did, June. We'll miss you." Peter's eyes looked shinier as he moved aside. El hugged him as he passed, then still arm and arm with Neal, they gave their condolences to Jeremy and Kaeyla before they walked to the casket. El went first, reaching to touch June's hand and smiling, eyes shiny with tears.

"You'll be missed June. Thank you again for taking such good care of Neal. I'm going to miss our talks." She sniffed slightly, Peter coming to her side and standing with his arm around her. Neal was behind them, his face looking somewhat afraid to approach the casket. El held out a hand to him and he hesitantly took it, letting her draw him forward.

"Neal..." Her voice trailed off and he finally looked down into the casket, his lip trembling slightly. El patted him on the shoulder as she and Peter moved aside so he could say his final words. He looked down at June, blue eyes glistening and held her hand. It felt cold but he only remembered her warmth.

"I'm... Thank you June. It must have been fate the day I met you at the thrift store. You were like an... an angel. I could never think how to repay your kindness and I... I'm going to miss you. Adieu... Please tell Kate hi for me. Tell her... I'll see her again one day." He leaned over the casket and gently kissed her forehead before he stood up again and backed slowly away. Someone put an arm around him. It was El and she hugged him, leading him away from the casket. They said their final condolences to Jeremy and Kaeyla, promising to get together before they left. Neal barely spoke but he seemed to look far more relieved now that he had said his farewells.

"It's ok, Neal." She handed him some tissues from her purse.

**()()()**

Neal felt his face wet with tears, opening them up and looking around the room. He was awake again. He wiped at his eyes, a strange panicked feeling coming over him as he thought about the dream. Neal sat up despite his fever and pulled the covers aside, standing up. He grabbed his robe and stumbled over to the door and exited. Everything seemed to sway slightly, the fever making him feel somewhat dizzy but he kept walking, taking the stairs slowly. He could hear voices nearby and made his way towards them.

"I guess Peter told you about Neal? He's not feeling very well, I'm afraid but you're welcome to come up when I take him his food. He'll be delighted to see you." June's voice tinkled softly from the dining room followed by another familiar voice.

"Thank you. I was worried about him after what Peter told me. I know he hasn't been sleeping too well. Thanks again for the tea. What kind is this again?" Elizabeth Burke's voice was lively, Neal thinking back to her in his dream. Both women turned and looked up as he stumbled towards them from the foyer.

"Neal? You shouldn't be out of bed!" June stood up, her expression worried as she moved to help him sit down. El had stood and taken his arm as he approached them. His face was still pale, cheeks flushed slightly pink from the fever. He hugged June tight, her face looking across his shoulders at El who seemed confused.

"I'm so glad... you're here." He sounded so forlorn, June pushing him into a chair and feeling his forehead as she smiled softly at him.

"Honey, I've only been gone a few minutes. Elizabeth was at the door. The soup's almost ready if you're hungry?" She brushed at his hair, pouring another cup of tea and handing it to him. He sipped at it and smiled boyishly. El sat beside him and squeezed his arm.

"Poor thing. Peter said you weren't feeling too well. Once the soup is ready, well bring it up to you but you need to go back upstairs to bed, ok?" El ruffled his hair like Peter usually did and he nodded back with a sleepy smile.

"Good, let me help you back up while June gets the soup for you." El helped Neal stand up and he leaned on her partially for support. They managed to make it back upstairs and he slipped back into bed, El fluffing up his pillows.

"Thank you, El." His voice was still raspy. She smiled and stood up a moment, walking over to the sink and filling up a glass of water for him.

"Drink this. You need to keep yourself hydrated. I hope I won't have to threaten you into resting like I do with Peter. He's a terrible patient." She chuckled, Neal smiling back.

"I can only imagine." He leaned back slightly against the pillows, the memory of the dream bringing a slight frown to his face. El noticed and brushed his hair with her fingers.

"What's wrong, Neal? You look worried." She kept brushing his hair gently, the action relaxing him into a semblance of calm. He couldn't stop thinking about his nightmares though, the guilt he felt in each one evident. Finally he opened his mouth to speak but June walked in and he stopped.

"Somebody order some chicken soup?" June smiled broadly, bringing the food on a bed tray as El moved aside.

"Now eat it all so you'll get healthy, ok?" She kissed his forehead gently, her smile filling him with warmth. He nodded obediently at her and started eating, both women sitting near him and chit chatting. This felt comfortable to him, the dreams fading into the background for now as he tried to concentrate on all the good he gained from both June and El. They were his support. They were a combination of mother, sister and guardian angel in many ways. They accepted him unconditionally.

June perked up as she heard the bell again.

"It's like Grand Central Station today. I should have called the housekeeper in but she had tickets to a play. I'll be right back." Her voice was jokingly coy, smiling at both Neal and El as she excused herself. El noticed Neal was nearly done with his food.

"Want me to take the tray?" She took it when he nodded and placed it over in the kitchen area. When she returned, he was leaning back, eyes partially closed in a thoughtful pose. She gently grasped his chin in hand and turned his face towards her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" El seemed to know what he was thinking and he wanted to tell her about the nightmares. She might understand more than anyone, worrying about Peter day in and day out. He was her life and she'd be lost without him.

"I don't know if you want to pay the admission. I'm not sure I like what I'm thinking about." His voice was soft, almost morose but she lifted his eyes to hers and smiled.

"You're worried about something, Neal. Talk to someone. It may help if you let someone listen." She wasn't going to push even though he knew she was curious. That's what he liked about her most, El always gave you your space. He finally nodded.

"Nightmares. I... " He was going to say more when there was a knock at the door and Peter peered inside.

"Hey Neal... El? Wow, it's like a party here. Neal... you never told me you were going to take off work to have a soirée with June and El." His voice was full of humor, June coming in behind him.

"He is officially bedridden, Agent Burke. You cannot drag him off to work today or tomorrow. He has a fever." June's voice was sarcastically officious, El covering her mouth as she stifled a giggle. Peter just played as if he were disappointed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Fine, then I guess it's the right time for this..." He pulled a green envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Neal.

"Everyone at work signed it. Figured it might make you feel better." Peter blushed slightly, El motioning him beside herself on the edge of the bed. Neal opened up the envelope and found a card inside with an image of a fat little frog on it's belly with a thermometer in its mouth and an ice pack on its head. He opened up the card and it simply read:

_**Heard you were feeling a little green.  
We hope this card will put a leap in your step.**_

_**Get Well Soon!**_

Neal read all the signatures, even Hughes, across the inside of the card and smiled.

"Thanks, Peter." He smiled at them all. Peter just mussed his hair and grinned.

"Well, we wanted our favorite consultant to know he was missed." He saw Neal blink at him and then roll his eyes.

"I'm sure you'll have a backlog of files waiting for me when I return." Neal's voice held some snark of its own.

"They miss you, Neal. The case files cry out your name when you're away." Peter felt a light tap on the back of his head from El.

"Don't antagonize him when he's sick. Neal, we can talk later. You rest, ok?" He realized she meant that and he nodded glad she hadn't said more. El hugged Neal and kissed him on the forehead, Peter patting him on the shoulder before they left. June checked his temperature once again but it remained at 101 for now. She clucked her tongue.

"I'll come back up in a little while to give you some more aspirin, ok? I'll leave you some water in the meanwhile in case you want a drink." She moved over to the sink and filled a pitcher, leaving it on the nightstand with a small glass. She hugged him softly before leaving him alone once again.

Neal sighed. It had felt nice having everyone there at once. He was starting to think about the dreams again but he didn't want to. El only knew he was having nightmares but he wasn't sure he would tell her the ones about them, maybe only the one about June. He was having second thoughts about discussing the dreams but he needed to talk to someone. He had barely told Mozzie what was going on but his friend had put up with him even when he fell asleep during the call. Mozzie was a good friend. Maybe he should tell him first then El? He tried to think what to do as he fell back into a less stressful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

Neal was dreaming about sitting in a sauna with all his clothes and coat on. He felt sticky and uncomfortably warm. He tried to exit the room but the door was locked, his fists pounding on the door as he tried to get out. He was feeling faint when he woke up.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room, vision slightly blurred. Neal reached up to wipe at his brow and it felt damp with sweat. Maybe he had been in that sauna after all. He tried to sit up and heard someone speak from nearby.

"*The appearance of a disease is swift as an arrow; its disappearance slow, like a thread." Mozzie's voice, nasally and somewhat sleepy sounding made him turn and smile.

"Hey Mozz. When did you show up?" Neal's voice was hushed, his throat feeling sorer than before as he reached for a glass of water and took a sip. The room felt too warm although he continued to shiver slightly. He saw a worried look on Mozzie's face.

"Did you get sick to avoid getting me breakfast?" He would have sounded serious on the surface to most people but there was a slight facetiousness only Neal could detect. He tried not to laugh, his throat and chest hurting as he coughed in response.

"No... but I'm sorry about... calling you so... early." Neal made to sit up but he felt too weak to move much, sipping the water as he lay on his side. Mozzie reached over and grabbed the glass before he spilled it.

"Neal, I'm going to call June up. You don't look so good." Mozzie started to leave but Neal grabbed his arm.

"I'm ok. I just feel... tired. Talk to me." Neal let go when Mozzie glanced at him curiously over his glasses. He pulled them off and wiped them carefully with a cloth.

"You never did tell me much about what was worrying you this morning. I'm still curious why you woke me up for chit chat." Mozzie finished cleaning his glasses and pushed them back onto this nose. He looked at his friend thoughtfully, moving the chair closer.

"I think Kate's death is still... well I've been evaluating things lately. My life feels less certain; The future so much more murky now." Neal lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, wiping at his forehead. It felt hot even to him. Mozzie nodded and stood.

"I know how you feel. It's part of my constant worry. Let me get June, Neal. You're a little too pale for my liking." He exited the room leaving the door open, his footsteps echoing down the hall and stairs. Neal could hear his friend calling out to June, his landlady replying in muffled tones, followed by footsteps coming closer and June peered inside. She held another food tray. Mozzie stood behind her.

"Neal, honey. You're feeling worse?" She placed the tray on the coffee table, walking over and pulling the thermometer out again. Neal opened his mouth obediently and held the device under his tongue till it beeped. June's eyes widened.

"103. This isn't good. I'm going to call my doctor. Mozzie, keep an eye on him." She hurried out of the room. Mozzie picked up the tray and carried it over to Neal as an afterthought.

"Build up your strength, Neal. Eat something." Mozzie's voice sounded more worried than usual, a slight crack in there. Neal pushed himself up to comply, looking down at the tray's contents. June had brought him more chicken soup, some cucumber sandwiches and a mug of hot peppermint tea with what smelled like honey and a slice of lemon. He sipped the tea first before moving onto the soup. Everything tasted good but he felt a bit dizzy as he sat up to eat. He tried one of the sandwiches and smiled slightly. They were of course, delicious. He took another sip of tea.

"Neal, what exactly bothered you that you called? I know you're worried about something. I guess you couldn't tell _The Suit_?" Mozzie as usual was right on the mark. Neal nodded, feeling his face flush or maybe it was the fever. The room still felt stuffy although he was shivering ever so slightly.

"Nightmares. I don't know why... but I... was dreaming of all the worse scenarios. It was terrifying when I woke up thinking it had really happened. I couldn't tell Peter I dreamed he died because of me." He saw Mozzie staring at him with a pseudo-analytical expression.

"So how was it your fault Peter died in the dream? It was a dream, Neal. It didn't really happen." Mozzie said it without chiding, making Neal think about it a moment.

"Keller. In the dream it was Keller who sent the men who kill Peter. What if he gets out? He promised he would try. He knows who Peter is and he knows my address." Neal shivered ever so slightly although this time he knew it was from the thought of Keller rather than his fever. Mozzie peered at him with a curious glance.

"So... you're telling me you're in bed ill from feeling guilty about something that '_could_' happen? That doesn't fly. There has to be more to it than that." Mozzie looked like he thought Neal needed to think about it a bit more.

"Partially. I also dreamed about El..." He paused not wanting to think about her dying again. Mozzie seemed to understand but his eyes had widened in curiosity.

"You saw her die too? Was it because of Keller? I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt El." Mozzie paled slightly at the thought, fiddling with his glasses.

"It was strange... I saw El across the street and when I crossed to meet her, someone grabbed her. A mugger. He almost killed her but I pulled her from his grasp." His eyes stared blankly ahead as he remembered the scene clearly.

"Then I saw her purse in the road and went to grab it when..." He felt a sudden nausea rise over him as he thought about the dream, picking up the tray, Mozzie catching it before it could fall. Neal stumbled to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. He knelt there till what little food he'd eaten had left him and it was just liquid.  
Once he had some better control over his stomach, Neal reached up and flushed the toilet, slumping down against the tiled wall and sitting there. He had no more strength left, his body shivering even more. Mozzie peered in after a moment and hurried over to him. June was right behind him.

"The doctor's on his way, Neal." She felt his forehead and frowned.

"Mozzie, help me get him back in bed." June helped lift the young man up, pausing only briefly when he asked to wash his hands. Once Neal was back in bed, June went back to the bathroom and grabbed up a clean wash cloth and wet it, placing it on his head. She tucked the blankets up to his neck so he could keep warm.

"Tha...nks... June." Neal smiled up at her, his blue eyes glassy from the fever. She brushed his hair gently, turning the wet cloth over. Mozzie watched from behind her, his expression worried.

"Neal..." Mozzie whispered but paused until June had left to answer the door.

"...get a grip! You're starting to act like me. It was a dream. El is alive and so is Peter." Mozzie patted his friend on the shoulder, Neal nodding vaguely. He felt cold.

"Mozzie, you've always been the voice of reason." He smiled at his friend, pushing a hand out from under the blanket to grasp Mozzie's. He saw his friend start slightly.

"Neal, your hand is like ice! I hate doctors but if June trusts him, I'll accept his diagnosis. Just get better!" Mozzie rubbed Neal's hand between both of his trying to warm it up. Neal smiled at his friend's efforts, looking up as a white haired, 50ish man in a tan polo shirt, blue dockers and topsiders with a small black bag entered the room with June.

"Dr. Gerard, my friend has a high fever." June's voice was soft as they walked over to Neal, Mozzie moving over for the doctor, his eyes watching the physician warily. The man smiled at Mozzie and then Neal as he sat beside him.

"Neal is it? My name is Malcolm. Can you tell me how you feel? Do you have a sore throat?" The doctor's voice was soft and gentle, his hands warm as he felt at Neal's throat and clucked his tongue.

"Yes, sore throat. I feel cold but my face feels hot and nose is stuffy. Chest feels tight." Neal's voice was hoarse and raspy, Malcolm nodding as he pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Neal's chest.

"Breath in... hold it. Now breath out. Again..." The doctor nodded and when he finished, pulled out a thermometer and pushed it gently into the young man's ear. It beeped.

"103. Say ah..." He flashed a light into the young man's throat and nodded.

"Is he going to be ok, Malcolm? He's so pale and he threw up a few minutes ago." June sounded like a worried parent. Dr. Gerard smiled.

"Neal's going to be fine. He has strep. Lots of cases right now. I'm going to write out a prescription for antibiotics and some meds to help with his sore throat and congestion. He'll be fine in no time." Malcolm patted Neal on the shoulder.

"He'll have to rest a few days before going back to work. Don't do anything strenuous, young man." He smiled at Neal who nodded.

"Strep... Neal, you better not have made me sick." Mozzie sounded upset but not angry, walking to the bathroom to wash his hands a few times. Neal gave a chagrined smile.

"Thank you, doctor. Thanks June." Neal said in a whisper. She smiled down at him, brushing his hair.

"I'll bring you a humidifier, Neal and some more aspirin."

**()()()**

Mozzie stuck around after the doctor left but with a scarf provided by June over his face. Neal wanted to laugh at the sight but it hurt too much. June had already ordered his meds and he had taken his first dose of antibiotics. He felt sleepy.

"You don't have to watch over me Mozz. I'm ok." Neal smiled at his friend thankfully, the little man getting comfy in the sofa.

"I don't care what the doctor said. He was dressed like he was going out on a yacht. I want to be sure you're ok if I have to sit here all night." Mozzie crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. Neal chuckled which turned into a cough.

"I'm fine but you're welcomed to stay on the sofa. I don't want you to catch this though. I know how much you hate doctors and hospitals..." He saw Mozzie's eyes widened a bit, the little gears turning in his friend's head.

"Well when you put it that way... I'll come back tomorrow. Get better, Neal." Mozzie's voice almost sounded like he was threatening him with rebellion if he didn't. Neal crossed his heart watching his friend leave. Mozz was a character but he was a good friend. His best. Neal lay back against the pillows and breathed in the fine mist of the humidifier. He was exhausted, body aching as he slipped into sleep again.

**(What if...)**

Neal was sitting at his desk, boredly twirling his fedora on a finger as he read another dull case file. He glanced over at Peter's office but he was still in a client meeting with Hughes. Neal had not been invited this time around so he would just glance up and try to figure out what was going on by their expressions. They weren't easy to read so he gave up and began twirling his hat instead.

He felt his eyes crossing from boredom when his cell rang. Neal's eyes lit up as he stood and quickly made his way to the break room to take the call.

"Mozzie? I can't... what's wrong? Mozzie, speak up." He could just hear a faint voice speaking on the other end, his friend's breath heavy in the background.

"Neal... so much smoke. I can't... see." Mozzie coughed and there was a sound like the phone had fallen on a hard surface. Neal's eyes widened, almost yelling into the phone.

"Mozzie... answer me... where are you? Mozzie?!" He thought he heard his friend coughing and a faint reply then quiet again. Neal ducked back into the lobby moving over to Jones' desk as he headed out. The agent gave him a curious glance.

"Caffrey, what's wrong?" Jones looked at him with interest. Neal shook his head, manner anxious.

"Emergency. Tell Peter I had to go." He saw Jones glance up at the offices and then back at Neal.

"Neal, if it's an emergency, tell Peter..." Jones blinked as the con shook his head and started out.

"No time... just tell him. Track me if you have to." Neal sounded different, leaving the lobby and heading down the stairs. Jones watched him leave and looked over at Peter's office standing up and heading over that way.

**()()()**

Peter and Hughes were speaking with a client about their consultant, Neal Caffrey. They had reservations about using an ex-con for the case but both agents were reassuring them that Neal was reliable and no further harm would come to their collection. There was a knock on the door and they turned to see Jones outside looking anxious. Hughes waved him inside.

"Jones, what's going on? We're in a meeting..." Hughes saw the look on the young agent's face and Peter noticed it as well. Jones glanced at Peter.

"I'm sorry but Caffrey left in a hurry. Thought you might want to know." Jones saw both agents look surprised and Hughes slightly embarrassed as the client looked at them curiously. Peter stood, grabbing his jacket and following Jones with a quick blurb.

"Sorry, we were supposed to do lunch so Caffrey went to get us sandwiches. Be right back." Hughes nodded, smiling at their client. As Peter left, he whispered to Jones.

"What's up, Clinton. Where did Neal say he was going?" Peter sounded worried if not a bit frustrated. Jones shrugged, showing Neal's tracker page as they reached his desk. Peter stared at it and gawked.

"He's going to Mozzie's? Why the rush? I'm going to follow. Let Hughes know. Thanks."

**()()()**

Neal cursed as he hit a bad bit of traffic on the way to Mozzie's storage unit. Something was wrong and he had to find out what. _Damn this New York traffic!_ He thought, taking a side street that ran parallel. Neal heard his phone ring and picked up. It was Peter.

"Neal... what are you doing? Jones said you had an '_emergency_?' What's up?" Peter's voice was chiding, his tone frustrated. Neal cursed to himself not wanting to deal with the agent side of his friend at the moment as he parked in an alley parallel with the wall of the storage. He saw smoke rising up from the other side of the wall.

"Peter, I don't have time for this! Mozzie's in trouble. Damn I see smoke over the wall... I have to hang up. Follow me if you want but I'm going after him!" He hung up the phone on his partner and parked the car he had '_borrowed_' from the FBI lot. He was already going to be in trouble for the car thing but it was Mozzie. He had to help him.

Neal climbed up on the car and leaped up to the top of the stone wall and climbed over, jumping down and rolling to a stop. He caught his breath and headed for the smoking storage block. As Neal approached he could see it was the same block that Mozzie '_lived_' in. He cursed running forward.

Neal could hear sirens heading closer but saw no fire trucks on the scene yet and only a few police cars outside the area directing traffic away from the area. He snuck around them and made his way to the storage unit that was Mozzie's finding it was the main one on fire, nearly the whole unit engulfed in flame. Neal visored his face trying to get closer till he found a spot and ran inside.

"**MOZZIE!!!!**" He screamed his friend's name but heard nothing. The place was nearly destroyed, bits of aluminum dripping from the ceiling from the intense heat. Neal cursed as he was hit by a glob, wiping it quickly away. He kept looking till he found a figure underneath a large girder. Neal ran over and crouched beside them coughing.

"Mozzie... Mozzie, it's Neal! Wake up!" The little guy just lay there on his side, cheek pressed against the floor. His cell phone lay beside him slightly warped and melted from the heat. Neal tried to lift up the girder but it was too heavy so he started to look for something to push under it like a lever.

"**NEAL!**" The young man turned at the sound of his name, seeing a figure running towards him. It was Peter with a face mask followed by some firemen in gear. Neal collapsed to his knees near Mozzie, the smoke starting to get to him. Peter caught him and pushed the mask against his face. Neal started to struggle as he was able to breath again, looking down at Mozzie.

"He's under the girder, Peter. I need to pull him out!" He started to tear himself away from Peter but the man pulled him back to the exit.

"The firemen will get him out, Neal. Come on!" Peter's voice was adamant with a hint of anger but Neal kept pulling against his friend trying to get back to Mozzie. They finally made it back outside and Peter led him some distance away to the Taurus, opening up the back door and helping him inside. By now Neal had been too weak from the smoke to fight much, Peter pushing the mask back over the young man's face. The agent looked pissed.

"Dammit, Neal! You could have gotten yourself killed not to mention you stole an FBI vehicle. What the hell were you thinking?!" Peter was pacing a bit, voice rising with emotion but it seemed he was more worried than angry, his eyes softening a bit as he crouched beside his friend.

"Neal... you should have just come and interrupted the meeting. I would have understood. Hughes would have too. You have to trust me." His brown eyes gazed at the young man who had finally pulled the mask away and wheezed. Neal looked sullen and angry but his eyes betrayed his fear. They both looked up as the two firemen who had gone in with Peter came out carrying a body between them. Neal leaped up and pushed past Peter anxiously. He was beside the still figure as a stretcher was brought out and Mozzie was placed atop. He grabbed his friend's hand in his.

"Mozzie... it's Neal... wake up. Please." He walked with the EMTs till they put the figure in the ambulance following. Peter talked to one of them while Neal sat there holding his friend's limp hand. Finally Mozzie grasped his hand back weakly, his eyes opening up.

"Mozz..." Neal's voice choked with emotion as he tried to think of what to say. He saw a confused look on his friend's face.

"******I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter_. _Hey Neal. You made it..." Mozzie coughed, body shuddering. His manner was strangely cheerful despite his condition. He had been burned pretty badly, his glasses slightly warped and melted by the heat. He squinted up at Neal but he looked like he wasn't able to see so well.

"I can barely see you. It's so dark. Neal... someone is after me. It's not my imagination... they sent me a package." He coughed again but it sounded bad, his face turning red and Neal turned, calling for an EMT to come look at him.

"Hold on, Mozzie. What package? Who sent it to you?" Neal was holding the man's hand in his tightly, unwilling to let go, moving aside enough for the EMT to examine him. Mozzie's voice grew quiet, eyes darting around wildly.

"Don't know... no return address. I guess snakes popping out of cans isn't enough for a practical joke anymore. They have to mail bombs now." His voice was still snarky despite his obvious pain. Neal felt tears running down his cheeks.

"Neal, I can't see you anymore. Are you still here?" His voice sounded afraid and Neal just squeezed his hand tighter.

"I'm right beside you. I'm not going anywhere, Mozz. Just stay with me, ok?" Neal's voice cracked slightly. He felt his friend relax slightly, the EMT looking over and giving Neal a look as he checked Mozzie's vitals.

"Neal... I'm sleepy. Thank you for coming for me... is _The Suit_ with you?" Mozzie seemed to be looking around although his grip had loosened some. Peter had walked up, standing just outside listening. Neal glanced at him, a devastated look in his blue eyes. Peter stepped up beside him into the ambulance and sat beside Neal.

"Hey Mozz, I'm right here." He patted the man's arm gently, trying not to see the burns, hiding his fear and sadness from his voice. His voice shook a bit as he tried to sound casual.

"Peter... take care of Neal. He needs someone there for him. Promise me." Mozzie sounded strong for just a moment, a look passing between Peter and Neal before he spoke again.

"I promise, Mozz. Just get better, ok?" He watched the man nod, relaxing, his blind eyes closing.

"Good. Listen to him, Neal. Trust hi... m." Mozzie's voice faded away, his body going slack. Neal stared wide eyed at his friend, shaking him gently.

"Mozz? Mozz... wake up! Please... Peter... He's not moving... Mozz..." Neal was leaning over his friend crying now, head on Mozzie's chest as he hugged him. Peter put an arm around the young man as the EMTs moved forward and worked on the little man. They had pulled out a defibrillator.

"No... I have to be with him... Mozz!" Peter held him back as the EMTs went to work on Mozz. The little man's body shook with each shock but nothing happened. He had been hurt too badly. Neal turned his face and buried it in Peter's shoulder, crying. Peter hugged him, trying not to watch the tragic scene.

Mozzie was gone. He had been Neal's oldest and dearest friend. His partner in crime (_literally_) and confidant. Peter felt his own eyes watering with warm tears. The man had been strange, paranoid and at times frustrating but he had helped them by assisting Neal when things were bad. El had come to adore his strange stories and odd conversations and June... they had been nearly inseparable at times. Peter said a silent good-bye to Mozzie as they pulled the sheet over him. He didn't want Neal to see so he pulled him away towards the Taurus.

"Mozzie... I have to... go with him. He doesn't like hospitals. He can't be alone, Peter. That's why I had to come." Neal's voice sounded distant... forlorn. Peter sat the young man in the front passenger seat and strapped him in.

"Just sit here a moment, Neal. I'm going to talk to the EMTs ok? We'll meet the ambulance at the hospital. Just wait for me a moment." Peter put a hand on the young man's shoulder and squeezed gently, walking away as he closed the door.

Neal watched Peter walk away as he slumped against the seat. He could see the agent talking to the ambulance staff and some of the cops. He saw Peter flash his badge and then hand them each a card, before he walked back towards the car. Neal closed his eyes and just tried to fade into the background. He opened his eyes again when he saw Mozzie, burnt and wounded in his mind's eye. He didn't want to remember his friend that way.

Mozzie... He was really gone. Someone had killed him but he didn't know who or why. He felt anger boiling up inside of him, turning as the driver's side door opened. Peter slipped inside, paused when he looked over at Neal's angry face, continuing to put on his seat-belt as he started the car.

"I told them we would meet them at the hospital and asked the cops to keep us informed of any leads. They think it was an explosion but not sure what kind." Peter pulled out of the lot. Neal felt a rage growing in him the more he remembered what Mozzie told him.

"It was a bomb. He told me he got a strange package. If I find out who did this I'm going to..." He didn't finish because Peter had braked the car, pulling over to the side of the street. He turned and grabbed Neal by the shoulder and glared at him.

"Don't even think about it, Neal! You're still on probation. Let the authorities deal with this. I can't protect you if you go off on your own. Please... Mozzie asked me to be the voice of reason. If you don't listen to me, listen to what he told you. You always trusted him." Peter's expression had softened some but his grip remained tight on Neal's shoulder till the young man finally relaxed a little, the fire fading to despondency. Neal leaned against Peter.

"Why him... he never hurt anyone. He... Mozzie wasn't a bad person. You know that Peter. He was just... odd; Eccentric and my best friend. Why did it have to be him? Why?!" He punched at the seat and started to cry again, Peter holding him gently.

"He knew the dangers of your profession. You know that better than anyone. He helped to keep you alive and tried to keep you from getting hurt. We'll figure this out together, ok?" Peter had pushed the young man to where they could see eye to eye. Neal nodded slightly, eyes red and puffy. Peter reached back and grabbed his jacket, draping it over Neal as the young man leaned against the door and stared blankly out the window.

"Get some rest. I'll take you home." Peter pulled back into traffic when he felt a hand on his arm. Neal was looking at him.

"Not June's... too many memories." Neal's glance was blank, his face emotionless as he turned back to the window. Peter nodded and patted him on the head.

"Ok, Neal."

**()()()**

Neal thrashed slightly in his sleep, his face wet with tears. He was mumbling.

"...Why did it have to be him? Why?!"

Someone was sitting beside him, their hand brushing gently at his hair. They spoke softly to him, calming him as they continued to stroke his hair. Neal started to relax, his face less taut as he fell into a more restful sleep.

"It's ok, Neal. You're safe." El sat there on the edge of the bed and tucked him in, bending over to gently kiss him on the forehead. She turned when she heard footsteps approaching. Peter peeked inside the room.

"El, how is he?" He walked over to her and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She hugged him back.

"He's still very warm. June said his temperature went up. He has strep throat." She continued to stroke the young man's hair. Neal looked peaceful but only a moment ago his face had looked so sad and tragic. She wondered about what he told her earlier about Nightmares and sighed.

"Let's sit on the couch. He's asleep now." Peter led her to the couch and they sat down, El nestling in his arms as they watched Neal sleeping. Both of them looked worriedly at him as if watching their own child.

"He looks so fragile, Peter. You and he are so much alike. You're always such a baby when you're sick. I told him you were a bad patient." She smirked at him, kissing him on the lips. Peter smiled back.

"Who wants to be stuck in bed? Poor kid. I still don't know what was bugging him. He wouldn't tell me but I got the impression Mozzie knew. Neal trusts him more than me." Peter almost sounded jealous, El smiling slightly.

"Well I did find out one thing... He's been having bad nightmares." El looked over at Neal with a worried look. Peter glanced over as well, his expression full of concern.

**(*=Chinese saying / ** Winston Churchill quote)**


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4)**

Neal slept comfortably the rest of the day only vaguely aware of June and others checking up on him. His mind was relatively blank now, dreams nearly non-existent as his body fought the cold. There was the occasional flash of imagery but most of it was random and nothing too memorable.

When he finally woke up the next day, he could hear the soft sounds of the city in the background. Neal still felt poorly but he pulled the blankets aside and sat up. His head swam a little before he was able to stand and make his way to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water as hot as he could stand it, stripping out of his pajamas and soaking. The steam helped to clear his sinuses a bit as it warmed his body. He still had a few chills but this felt good.

After a few minutes he turned the water off and exited, wrapping himself in a large warm towel and looking at himself in the mirror. His face still looked somewhat pale, a few dark circles around his eyes but nothing that wouldn't go away once he felt more himself. Neal shaved though he wasn't going anywhere, styled his hair and walked back out into the main room. He threw on a comfy pair of sleep pants, a white tee and threw his robe over it all. He pushed his feet into his slippers and exited the room.

Neal made his way downstairs but June was nowhere to be seen. He found the housekeeper in the kitchen, who smiled when she saw him.

"June had to step out for a few but she wanted me to tell you she'll be back soon. I have some soup if you're hungry." She moved towards the stove where a pot was bubbling. He could smell the soft scent of chicken soup and nodded.

"I'll bring it up in a few. Is there anything else you needed?" Neal shook his head with a soft smile, grabbing an apple off the table and walking back towards his room. He started up the stairs, biting into the apple and thinking about things. Maybe Mozzie was right; It could just be the illness but dreams were just that... _dreams_. He'd had nightmares before but the ones recently had seemed so vivid.

Neal sighed, going back inside his room and closed the door behind him. He plopped down on the sofa and continued to eat the apple when he heard a soft _buzz_ from nearby. Neal stood up slowly and walked towards the nightstand seeing his phone vibrating. He picked it up and looked to see who was calling.

"Peter?" His voice still choked a bit from the soreness but felt better since he'd taken that first dose of antibiotic and meds. He listened for a reply but heard nothing on the line. He blinked wondering if the call dropped when he heard a slight movement.

"_N... ee... al..._" The voice was weak, barely audible but it brought a chill to the young man. He listened as he heard a wet cough in the background and more movement.

"Peter? Peter where are you?" Neal started to feel colder but not from fever. He pinched himself and ouched. He was awake or thought he was. The sound on the other side had grown quiet, Neal calling out again.

"Peter... answer me!" Neal listened but could only hear a quiet sound like someone breathing softly in the background. He was trying to figure out what to do when he heard a knock and the housekeeper showed up with a tray.

"If you want to sit at the sofa, I can changed the linens out for you." She smiled at him and Neal nodded vaguely, his attention on his cell. Something was wrong with Peter. He had to find out what. Neal walked over to the sofa as the housekeeper changed out his sheets. Neal kept talking into the phone.

"Peter... Peter answer me." He listened but still only heard the soft ragged breath in the background. Neal sighed, moving over to the wardrobe as the housekeeper left with the dirty sheets. He pulled out a pair of comfy jeans, a navy turtle neck and a warm leather jacket. He changed quickly into the clothes, pushing his feet into a pair of black suede slip-ons, pushing the phone back to his ear. He could still hear the breathing in the background but Peter wasn't answering. He pulled the cell from his ear and pulled up a GPS app. It traced the call to a warehouse on the edge of his anklet's range. Neal hoped Jones was around to track him if he left his '_area_.' Neal snuck out the back way before the housekeeper could see him and hailed a cab.

**()()()**

Peter slept poorly after his visit with Neal the day before. He tossed and turned in his sleep having a few nightmares of his own. El finally nudged him awake when he didn't respond to the alarm. Peter grunted, hugging her as he stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He took a cooler shower than usual to wake himself up but it didn't seem to help. Today was going to be a long day.

He managed to shave and dress without falling asleep, El fussing over him as he nodded sleepily over breakfast. Coffee seemed to wake him up but just enough. El nudged him gently before he left.

"Are you ok, Peter? You were tossing all night." She kissed him and he kissed her back smiling.

"I'm just worried about Neal. See you for lunch? Maybe we can visit and see how he's doing?" He pulled El close and hugged her tight.

"You bet." She smiled as he waved and left the house.

**()()()**

"The intel collected from the stakeout the other day made it possible for us to get a warrant to search the premises. Thank Caffrey for me for his contribution to the case when he's feeling better Burke." Peter nodded to Hughes. Several agents including Jones were in the room for the meeting. Hughes continued.

"The owner of the building has been so gracious as to open his doors to us but we still need the warrant. That's the assignment. We'll be going in to check the building today. Let's head out!" Hughes smiled, agents nodding and heading out of the office. Peter and Jones stayed behind a moment to talk to their boss.

"Peter, the owner seems a little too eager to let us in, so I want you and Jones to go in and talk to him directly while the other agents search the premises. See if you can _feel_ him out." Hughes patted him on the shoulder and Peter smiled.

"Not a problem."

**()()()**

Jones drove to the site glancing over as he noticed Peter yawning. His boss had been doing it most of the morning.

"You ok, Peter?" Jones pulled into the warehouse lot and parked. Peter nodded.

"I'm good. Just had a bad night. Ready?" Peter took a quick sip of coffee from the thermos and smiled. Jones grinned back.

"Let's go take a tour."

**()()()**

The owner of the warehouse was a Greek immigrant by the name of Aristotle Katsaros. He spoke perfect English punctuated by a slight hint of his native accent. He had come here as a boy with his parents, opening the business after buying it from a friend of the family. They sold various imported gifts and rare goods. He had nothing to hide far as Peter and Jones could see. Katsaros was honest, open and very friendly. Peter wondered if this was the same operation they had been watching. Unless he was just a good actor, Katsaros seemed unaware of the corruption in his business.

"My nephew, Cristos, he's been in charge for the past few months while I've dealt with my late wife's death." The man looked truly sad, Peter and Jones sharing their condolences as he continued to show them around. Meanwhile the rest of the agents were also inside with Katsaros' permission looking around the premises. He was a gracious host.

"This is quite an operation. You opened it to help your family? I'm impressed." Peter was trying to chat the man up as long as he was willing to talk and so far no diversions, redirects or any pauses. The man was clean as far as he could tell. Jones seemed surprised as well. By now the rest of the crew had left, having found no evidence of what had been discovered during the stakeout. It had been there just the other night but now had vanished. Peter and Jones were the only agents left, still trying to piece what had happened as they continued the tour with their host. They walked the length of the warehouse to a more secluded spot where Katsaros paused and looked a bit confused.

"I don't remember these boxes being shipped in." He walked over to one box, grabbing a crowbar and opening up the crate. On top there were what appeared to be hand painted nesting dolls from Russia but just beneath there seemed to be too much space for so few items. Katsaros moved the items aside and gasped. Peter peered over and frowned, Jones whistling through his teeth.

"I don't think this is the latest thing from Nintendo. You said you didn't authorize these? Who else would have authorization to ship things in, Katsaros?" Peter's voice was quiet as he pulled out a handkerchief and handled one of the assault rifles. Jones turned and gave him a glance when there was the sound of something _clicking_ nearby. Peter perked up realizing he'd heard that sound before. He turned to Jones who was already moving, and then to Katsaros but it was too late as the crate blew up and they were thrown aside.

Peter felt himself smash into another crate, his body flopping down to the cement floor with a thud. He gave a low moan of pain, opening his eyes to look for Jones. He saw his colleague laying a few yards away unmoving in a pile of tarps. Peter turned his gaze towards the source of the explosion, the crate that held the guns, and saw Katsaros obviously dead. Peter groaned, wondering who would have had time to set this up. He managed to get his right arm to move and pulled out his cell with some effort. His head swam from the blow as he'd been tossed up against another crate but he managed to speed dial a familiar number. He heard a familiar voice.

"_Peter?_" Neal's voice was raspy but Peter could just hear it through the ringing in his ears. He made an effort to answer.

"N... ee... al." He couldn't stay conscious, passing out as he heard a voice calling.

"_Peter? Peter where are you?_"

**()()()**

Neal had kept the phone call active all the while looking down at his anklet hoping he wouldn't set it off and then thinking maybe if they came looking for him that would be the best thing for Peter. The cab finally stopped just outside the lot for Katsaro's Import Goods. Neal paid the cabbie and talked into the cell yet again.

"Peter... I'm here. I'm at Katsaro's. Where are you? Answer me..." He kept hoping he was dreaming and would wake up soon but this nightmare kept going on, the sound of ragged breathing on the phone. As he crept up to the wall and peered around he thought he heard footsteps over the phone, echoing softly till they neared the cell.

"_I'm sorry, Uncle but you were just too curious for your own good. It's a shame you had to bring the FBI into this._" The voice wasn't familiar but it was close enough to the phone Neal could hear them speaking through Peter's cell. He held his breath as he heard someone pick up the phone and then the signal was lost. Neal cursed, pushing his phone into his pocket and creeping around the wall into the warehouse.

**()()()**

"This one is still alive but unconscious..." A large man with broad shoulders, blond hair and blue eyes spoke to another figure with wavy raven black hair and deep hazel green eyes. The second man nodded poking at a figure down by his foot.

"I'm sorry, Uncle but you were just too curious for your own good. It's a shame you had to bring the FBI into this." He took a few steps towards another prone figure. It was Peter, the man noticing a cell phone beside the agent and picking it up. He switched it off and tossed it hard against the wall watching it smash to pieces.

"This one is alive as well. We'll have to dispose of them all _properly_. Get Terry to help." Cristos Katsaro's voice was emotionless as he crouched down beside Peter's unconscious form and picked him up by the hair then dropped him again. The agent gave a weak groan but otherwise did not respond. Cristos smiled unhappily.

"If not for my uncle's naivety, I'd never have known about this visit today. We'll have to move base tonight." He gave an absent wave and two men walked up and quickly helped to drag Peter and Jones' unconscious forms away as well as Katsaro's.

**()()()**

Neal ducked into a side entrance near the back of the warehouse and made his way through the maze of crates, shelves and various other equipment. He wiped at his forehead feeling a bit warm but ignoring it under the circumstances. He wondered if June had found his note he left for her in the room. Neal stifled a cough, his throat feeling sore and tight as he moved around in the cool dusty air of the warehouse. He could hear voices up ahead and paused, crouching behind a large shelf.

"This one is alive as well. Well have to dispose of them all properly. Get Terry to help." It was the man from the phone. The man Neal had heard speaking without knowing it through Peter's cell. He listened to the rest of the conversation and ducked further back as two men walked by each carrying a limp figure. Neal held back a gasp as he saw Peter hanging over one man's shoulder. He wanted to rush out and grab his friend but he knew even in his feverish state that it wouldn't be prudent. Neal watched helplessly as the men exited the warehouse, following when he was sure the coast was clear.

"What are we supposed to do with them?" A blond haired man with blue eyes muttered, dropping Jones to the gravel beside the pier entrance outside. The second goon, a brown haired man with muddy eyes just shrugged.

"I say we put some weights on them and blame it on the mob." He grinned like an idiot, the first man smiling just as stupidly back with a nod.

"Sounds like a plan. I saw some tackle gear around here somewhere. Be right back." The blond left, heading past Neal where he hid behind a huge mildewing buoy of red and white. The brown haired goon just sat down on the wharf wall and began to smoke a cigarette casually. Neal thought Cristos needed to hire some better goons. These guys weren't too bright. He lifted up a small 2x4 or what was left of it and casually strode up to the man.

"Got a light?" Neal's voice was raspy but just loud enough it got the man's attention. The goon started to turn when Neal smacked him hard with the board in his hands and heard it crack, splintering as it connected with the man's skull. The brown haired man slumped over onto the gravel and Neal panted from the effort, wiping at his forehead as he felt even warmer. He checked the brown haired man's jacket and found a gun, pushing it into his own pocket before he checked Jones and Peter. Jones had a nasty knot on his forehead but otherwise seemed ok. The agent groaned when Neal moved him.

"Jones... wake up. It's Neal." Neal smiled when Jones opened his eyes and glanced up at him blearily.

"Caffrey? How did you...?" He gave another groan as Neal helped him sit up against a nearby wooden palette. Jones looked over at Peter with a start.

"How is he? Someone _set us up the bomb_, if you know what I mean." Jones rubbed at his head gingerly as Neal checked out Peter. His friend wasn't moving but he was alive. The back of his shirt had been tore up pretty bad during the blast, some minor burns and scratches evident. Peter's left arm hung oddly as if it had been pulled out the socket, and the left side of his face was bruised and scratched up where he landed on the ground. Neal winced thinking about the wounds when he heard a sound of someone approaching.

"Think you can walk, Jones? I'll carry Peter." He watched Jones nod as he pushed himself up to his feet with the help of the palettes and limped ever so slightly. Neal started to lift up Peter when he heard the cocking of a gun.

"Impressive. The FBI are fast when they find their agents are missing. I wouldn't have thought there'd have been time enough for them to miss these two." Cristos stood there with a toothy smile that reminded the con of a tiger.

"It's a shame though, I would have liked to get this mess cleaned up quickly but adding one more to the pile shouldn't be too hard." He raised his gun when someone screamed behind him.

"**FBI! PUT THE WEAPON DOWN!**" Neal looked behind Cristos to see agents including Hughes coming towards them. The blond goon had already been apprehended, being dragged away in cuffs as Cristos turned. The man looked pissed, dropping his gun as he glared back at Neal and Jones.

"Good work, Neal." Jones was looking down, Neal following the agent's glance when he saw his anklet was glowing red. He smiled slightly, a blush coming to his cheeks.

"I guess I went over my 2 miles. He sat down beside Peter on the ground, pulling his jacket off and rolling it up under his friend's head. Neal waved a hand in front of his face feeling warmer than usual and a bit lightheaded. Jones patted him on the shoulder.

"You ok, Neal? You don't look so good." Neal glanced up, vision somewhat blurry. It really did feel hot suddenly.

"I'm just feeling a bit warm. When did the sun start shining so brightly?" Neal leaned back against the wooden palettes and slumped. Jones was looking at him concerned as he limped over to some of the agents and Hughes.

"I need help over here!" Jones' voice sounded far away as Neal felt himself fading into the background.

**()()()**

Neal woke up feeling warm but his throat didn't hurt quite so much. He felt rather rested too as he opened his eyes. The room was unfamiliar, the color scheme blander and less interesting than his room at June's. A tan striped sofa with a small wooden coffee table near it sat to his right in front of a curtained window. By the light that passed through the beige curtain, he thought it must be late afternoon. He glanced up at a clock on the wall to see it was around 3 pm. He stretched and yawned, something pinching his arm. He noticed a couple of IV feeds in either arm. Neal was looking at them when he turned at the sound of a door opening.

"It's been three days. He just overdid it is all. They said he should be better when his fever breaks. Yes... thanks. I'll let him know, June." Elizabeth Burke's voice was soft as she hung up the cell and turned. She paused when she saw Neal looking at her and smiled.

"Neal, you're awake. How are you feeling?" El made her way to his side, gave him a hug and kissed him on the forehead. Her smile grew wider.

"You don't feel hot anymore. I think your fever broke." She pulled up a chair and sat beside him, holding his hand in hers. He peered around the room a moment then back at El.

"I think that last fever drove me to the brink. I dreamed Peter and Jones were hurt..." He smiled slightly then stopped when he saw her expression. El looked tired but more than that, worried. Neal cupped her hand in his.

"So that wasn't a dream?" He felt a slight nausea pass over him as he saw El shake her head. Neal thought back to how Peter had looked when he found him and blanched. El hugged him.

"He's ok, Neal. Mostly Peter was banged up, with a slight concussion but by some miracle that was it. Jones the same." She shuddered slightly, Neal putting an arm around her. He sighed in relief making her look at him curiously.

"Sorry, I just thought it was another of my nightmares... I'm glad Peter's ok. Maybe I can go see him?" He sounded concerned and she nodded.

"I think he'd like that. He woke up yesterday. They're still removing shrapnel, mostly small bits of wood. Apparently wooden nesting dolls make great projectiles. Peter and his FBI sense of humor." She shrugged, Neal smiling slightly.

"Ouch. Poor Peter. How about Jones? He here?" He watched her shake her head.

"He was the luckier of the two. Landed in a pile of tarps. Got less shrapnel though cause he had a vest on. He just came in for a cursory exam and was let go." She winced at the thought as did Neal. She pointed at a small bag at the foot of the chair.

"June sent you some clothes and toiletries for when you woke up. She was worried when she got home and you weren't there. I'll have to let her know you're awake. She wants to come visit again." El smiled at him and he grinned back.

"Surprisingly, I wasn't dreaming the last few days, at least I don't recall anything. Maybe the nightmares have gone away. I'm sorry for worrying you and June." He blushed slightly but she just patted his arm.

"I'm glad you were able to help Peter. He's been asking about you."

**()()()**

The next day, Neal was able to leave the hospital but on the way out El had to go pick up Peter who was also being released. He would have to come back as the small splinters of wood pushed themselves out to have the doctor extract them. It was going to be a slow, slightly painful process but the only way they could be sure everything was pulled out naturally and with minimal pain. Neal sat down in the wheelchair provided although he could technically walk, El pushing him towards a room down the hall where Peter was being packed up to leave.

The first thing Neal noticed when they entered Peter's room was a balloon in the shape of a giant Russian nesting doll. Someone at the office must have sent it as a get well joke. Neal wondered if the irony was lost on Peter considering what happened. Peter still lay in bed but he was clothed, his body somewhat stiff as if he were in pain. His left arm was in a sling. The agent turned at the sound of the door opening and blinked in surprise.

"Peter, guess who else gets to go home today?" El pushed Neal's wheelchair closer to the bed, a nurse coming behind her with another for Peter. Both men glanced curiously at the other, a moment of silence passing between them. Peter pushed himself up to a sitting position, groaning ever so slightly as he stood and limped over to Neal, holding out his hand.

"Thanks partner. I owe you my life." Peter took Neal's hand in his and they shook, both men smiling.

"I'm glad I was conscious enough to help." Neal pushed himself up to his feet and they hugged slightly, Peter putting his good arm around Neal. The nurse gave them both a little pinched frown pointing at the wheelchairs, Neal sitting back in his and Peter limping over with El's help to the other one. El pushed her husband and the nurse took Neal's chair as they exited the room. Peter leaned over and whispered to the young man.

"I don't know what possessed me to call you. I knew you were sick but yours was the first number I thought to call. I'm just glad Hughes had the foresight to come look for you when your anklet went off. I guess you figured that would bring people out to help. Thanks." He grinned at Neal who just shrugged slightly.

"I had hoped if anyone would find us it would be Jones but he was with you. I didn't know that. I guess he sent you that balloon in the room?" Neal grinned slightly, Peter nodding with a sigh but smiling.

"I have heard way too many joked about nesting dolls and wood since I woke up. I think Jones had too and just wanted to make me suffer along with him once I was conscious enough to enjoy it." Peter made a mock expression of annoyance, Neal smiling.

"Awww... so what kind of jokes did he pass along?" He saw Peter glance at him with a wary look as if he were too tired to deal with any more jibes but he shrugged helplessly and conceded.

"All the dolls are stuck _in_ you..." He grimaced at the humor as did Neal.

"That's not funny. I _wood_ have said something about _you don't nest dolls, they nest you_." Neal grinned slightly seeing the expression on Peter's face redden slightly then relax as he shook his head.

"Stop it... I still have to come back once all these damn doll bits pop back out of my skin." He frowned but he didn't seem unhappy, just a little down. Neal reached over and patted his shoulder gently.

"I'm just glad this didn't end like one of my nightmares." He looked relieved, Peter looking over at him curiously.

"So you had a nightmare about me being hurt? That's what upset you the other night?" He blinked at the young man who nodded with a chagrined look.

"I... I dreamed that Keller took his revenge on me by making me watch his men kill you. I didn't... it was so real I couldn't deal with it." He rubbed at the back of his neck looking up when the nurse helped him get up as they exited the hospital. El helped Peter stand and they walked over to the Taurus that was parked nearby. El put them both in the backseat so they had more room to relax, then slipped into the front. While they drove out of the lot, Neal noticed Peter looking at him in a thoughtful manner.

"I guess you worry about me about as much as I do you. I had a few nightmares of my own the other night when you were still sick. I didn't sleep well at all thinking about things that could be." He grasped the young man's hand in his own and smiled but Neal still looked a bit worried.

"You're not the only person I dreamed about... I also dreamed about June... Mozzie..." He paused not wanting to speak of the nightmare he had about El but Peter seemed to understand.

"I know what you mean. I remember when I was still a rookie and helping to bust down doors, I'd have nightmares about everything that could have gone wrong after a bust and sometimes before. It was nerve wracking since most of the things were probable. I'd wake up a nervous wreck but I think it became worse once El and I were married. I didn't want her to be left alone so I transferred to the White Collar unit. I can't even begin to imagine what sorts of nightmares she must have thinking about me when I go to work." He shook his head as if trying not to think about it.

"I guess it's still too soon after Kate's... I guess I'm reevaluating things in my life now." He saw Peter blink at him and smile, his hand reaching up to muss his hair.

"Yeah, sometimes you have moments that test your faith. You know I'm here if you ever want to talk. I'm not letting you off the hook any time soon." He gave him that big brother kind of glance and Neal smiled.

"Long as it's Peter Burke I'm talking to and not Agent Burke. That last guy can be a real pill." Neal said it in mock seriousness noticing El was watching them through the rear-view mirror and stifling a laugh. Peter noticed as well, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"Agent Burke's not all that bad. He's just dedicated to his job, justice and the American way... or something like that. He can be fun once you get to know him." Peter sounded like he was talking about another person, Neal blinking at him curiously.

"Uh oh... first signs of insanity: Talking about yourself in the _third_ person. El, maybe you should take him back to the hospital and have them do a psycho-analysis." His tone was facetious, Peter arching a brow.

"Peter is feeling angry now. Peter doesn't like people poking fun at him when he talks in the third person."

**(the end)**


End file.
